


Pity Party

by gayouijaboard



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Because as we all know Klaus is Decidedly Not Straight, Drinking, F/M, Intoxication, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Other, gender neutral reader, jumping klaus’ bones and shit, klaus is the sober one for once, reader is out here being bold, this is purely self service, x Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 20:36:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayouijaboard/pseuds/gayouijaboard
Summary: You swear to god your birthday is cursed. Klaus Hargreeves showing up like he owns the place after your fiancé dumps you over text message only seems to prove your point.





	Pity Party

Today really just wasn’t your fucking day.

It was funny — _ironic_ , really, considering that if any day was going to swing in your favor, you’d have figured your own _birthday_ would be at the top of the fucking list. Maybe wake up, have a nice breakfast, spend some time with those you held closest. That’s what _normal_ people did on their special days, what you would’ve _liked_ to have been able to do. But then, you weren’t normal, and after as many birthdays as you’d suffered through so far in your life, you really should have known better.

Your birthday was something of a curse. Each and every year, no matter how old you turned, no matter how good or bad you had been, how much of a plan you’d had or how care free you were willing to act, everything always just seemed to go _wrong_. There was no rhyme or reason for it, no clear explanation as to why this was. All you knew was that as soon as your eyes slid open each year on that day, the universe seemed intent to wreak havoc in your life.

This birthday had been no exception.

Unlocking the door to your apartment, you didn’t even bother kicking the door closed before dropping your bags to the floor and kicking off your shoes. You’d stopped at the liquor store on your way home— kind of a must, after having been dumped via text message by your  _ fucking fiancé _ —  and hadn’t been able to wait until you were home before cracking the bottle open. Now you were half a bottle of vodka deep into your sorrow and had no one to wallow in your pity with.

Or, so you’d thought. The universe didn’t seem to be finished with you quite yet.

“Oh, _hello_ there,” a voice drawled from the other side of the living room. “Welcome home.”

You might’ve screamed bloody murder if you hadn’t been midswig directly from a vodka bottle’s neck, but then, you supposed that would’ve been a bit of an overreaction. After all, your birthday curse was laying it on thick today, and the shit wasn’t stopping until the clock struck midnight. All you could do was sit there and fucking take it.

Swallowing hard, you reached backward with a hand to turn on the lamp just beside your sofa and found yourself pleasantly surprised when no one threatened to shoot you if you kept moving. Most home robbers didn’t want to be seen, naturally, so that inspired at least some sort of confidence, and as you flipped the switch, illuminating the darkness only to find—

Oh, no, this was _much_ worse. A burglar would’ve been _way_ less complicated.

He looked much the same as the last time you’d seen him, making you wonder if that was cause for concern. His style was the same — no one would ever be able to change that, and while it was refreshingly familiar and gaudy, you couldn’t seem to shake the shock. He was skinny, though he’d always been, and his eyes were heavily rimmed in smudged up liner, contrasting starkly with the pallor of his skin. Everything, _everything_ about him was the same, from the wildly unkempt dark hair to the black painted nails, to the eyes that looked like they’d seen much more terror than should have been possible for their age.

But, then, Klaus had always been unfairly predisposed to terrifying sights. It made sense that he looked haunted, considering he literally had been since childhood.

“Was _wondering_ if this day was gonna get any worse,” you muttered, rolling your eyes and taking another swig from your bottle. “Guess I should’ve figured.” You raised the bottle in your hand, brandishing it for Klaus to see. “I’d offer you some, but, you know. Wouldn’t want you to go breaking your _sobriety_ and all.”

Assuming he’d managed to stay clean for more than a couple of hours, which he’d skipped town on you so many times to _avoid_ doing.

Klaus chuckled, the same mischievous, lilting chuckle you remembered from when you knew him. It was a nice sound, truth be told; you hated that it brought you a bit of comfort. “What, you’re not happy to see me?”

“Nope,” you responded, popping the ‘p’ as you stared him down hard. He was a bit of a distance away, but you couldn’t see any obvious signs. No track marks, no blown out pupils, no distinguishable scent. You hated to jinx it, but Klaus didn’t appear to be using at the moment. Well, that, or he’d just gotten really good at pretending he wasn’t. “But you’re not stupid, so I’m sure you knew that would be the case.”

“Oh my god, you can just _ask_ , you know,” Klaus sighed, waving a tattooed palm in the air for emphasis. “Not like I’d lie to you.”

You gave a harsh laugh, one that made your chest feel funny when accompanied by the warmth of the alcohol. “You did the last time you were here,” you told him, shaking your head and turning your gaze to the ceiling. “And the time before that. Time before _that_ , too, if I’m remembering right.”

“Well this time’s different,” he insisted. “And I don’t lie anymore.” At a pointed look from you, he paused, then backtracked, a sheepish little smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Okay, maybe I do, but never to _you_. Not anymore.”

Again, you scoffed. Klaus brought out the snark in your soul entirely too easily. “That’s a nice thought, Klaus, but I can’t deal with your addict shit, alright? Not after the day I’ve had.”

He hopped up from where he perched, cautiously stepping closer one foot at a time. When you made no move to stop him approaching, he bridged the gap and sat gingerly beside you. The heat radiating off him was nice, comforting — familiar. “That’s why I’m here,” he insisted, a kind smile offered your way. Funny; so much time spent apart, yet he still looked like the friend you’d loved so dearly in your youth. “I’m not stupid, I know what today is. Came to lend you a shoulder to cry on.”

As if he could know what you’d been through today. It would’ve been one thing if he’d shown up unannounced last year, when you’d toppled over on your way to your birthday party and broken your ankle, or the year before, when you’d gotten the news that your best friend would be moving to the opposite side of the country for a job opportunity. Klaus might’ve been able to comfort you those times, with his honeyed voice and quick jokes, but today... today had been an entirely different breed of fucked up. Today had been so bad, you weren’t even sure how next year was going to top it. Today had been _literal_ _hell_.

“I don’t have time for this, Klaus,” you sighed, shaking your head as you turned to eye him. The vodka was beginning to hit you now, making your vision somewhat choppy; you might’ve found the effect amusing if you weren’t so determined to wallow in sorrow. “I got... I got shit to be angry over, and you... I don’t even know what the fuck I’m supposed to _do_ with how I feel about seeing you.”

Klaus pressed a pleading hand to his chest, a look of genuine remorse flashing across his features. Was it just you and your drunken idiocy, or was he... concerned? “Hey, look, I know I haven’t exactly been... the _best_ friend, okay? You needed me a lot and I wasn’t there for you, but I’m here now. And I know what your birthday is like, and I know something shitty happened, and for once in our lives, you aren’t the sober one out of the two of us, so...”

He held his arms out, a kind gesture. He was offering you companionship, affection, a friendly ear, so... who were you to deny him?

You sighed, scooching over and leaning your head back against his chest. Careful to balance the bottle of vodka against your side, you let go of it to grab Klaus’ arms and settle them around your middle, tucking your head beneath his chin before grabbing the bottle once more and pulling a long draw from it. “This doesn’t bother you, does it?” you asked, raising the glass in the air.

“Not at all,” Klaus responded, fingers already tracing soothing patterns into your arm. Oh, that felt nice; he always did have such a gentle touch.

“Good,” you replied, drinking again. It might’ve just been your imagination, but you swore you heard a soft chuckle above you. “Because I’m gonna need it to get through this fucking story.”

—

“A _text_ _message?_ ” Klaus asked, tugging at locks of your hair. You weren’t sure when he had started or why he kept doing it, but you were too far gone to care. The only thing you knew for sure was that you didn’t want him to stop. “Really?”

“ _Really_ ,” you muttered, pressing a hand to your cheek. You’d run out of vodka some time ago — you’d meant to go and get another bottle, but Klaus had restrained you from doing so, hypocrite that he was. God forbid you find solace in getting trashed like he was prone to do. “Two years of engagement and that’s all I got. Shows you how much I matter.”

“You matter plenty,” Klaus assured you. He smelled clean, like soap and laundry detergent and... cotton candy body wash? Whatever; it was definitely a better alternative to the stench of marijuana. “You just... fuck, we need to get you a better taste in fiancés.”

“It’s fine, I don’t care that much,” you sighed. And how could you, with the way the lights were dancing in your eyes, or the angle at which the room was tilting? Hell, just the feeling of Klaus’s fingertips brushing over your skin was enough to make you shiver. It was also enough to stir up other things, feelings from a long time ago, a sort of spark in your chest just waiting to be ignited.

No. _No_. You were drunk, that was all. Klaus couldn’t just show up here and expect you to... no. It wouldn’t be fair.

Unless… unless Klaus wasn’t the one who had feelings he wanted to act on at all. This was all  _ you _ . And sure, maybe this would come back to bite you in the ass the next morning, but until then… what was wrong with a little flirtation?

“Hey,” you began, a wave of giddiness rolling through you as you pulled yourself away from Klaus’ chest in an effort to face him. You liked the easy smile on his features, liked the way that he looked so peacefully at home. In a way, you supposed he was; hadn’t you been his closest friend since your teen years? Hadn’t he been yours? Never mind — there’d be time for reflection when you were more sober. For now... it was time to be impulsive. “Do you wanna know a secret?”

Klaus raised an eyebrow, his interest easily piqued. That had never been hard to do for you; it was comforting to know you still had the same effect on him after so long. At least there was something you could count on.

”A secret?” he repeated softly, narrowing his eyes playfully. The word sounded like a delightful sin, with as much praise as his lips gave to its shape. “You have a secret?”

Part of you was hesitating. It was the part that was hanging on to your last shred of common sense, the one that said none of this was a good idea. It wasn’t a smart move, truth be told, nor was it likely to bring you anything but conflict and confusion. You’d spent so many years trying to put thoughts of him out of your mind, so much time trying to close that part of yourself off. Awakening it once more — while fucking _drunk_ , no less! — couldn’t be smart.

But then again... it was still your birthday, wasn’t it? Bad luck curse be damned, you deserved to squeeze at least _one_ drop of goodness out of today. Klaus wouldn’t mind, of course. He’d be getting just as much out of it as you, and hadn’t he been willing to do any and everything to make you smile, once upon a time? Wasn’t the whole point of him coming here to offer you comfort?

Shaking your head and throwing all caution to the wind, you gently touched your fingers down on the skin of Klaus’ arm, tracing slow patterns. “That’s right,” you whispered, feeling your heart pick up in your chest. Klaus closed his eyes and released a deep breath, lashes fluttering in response to your fingers crawling up his arm. The sight only served to embolden you further, and you began leaning forward. “Do you wanna know what it is?”

“I don’t... _not_ wanna know,” Klaus gasped, extending his neck as your fingers met the base of his shoulder. A clear invitation to continue; he’d be putting up no fights tonight, then. “ _Jesus_ , you’re good at that.”

“‘M good at lots of things, Klaus,” you hummed. Finding a particular inspiration for bravery, you shifted your weight and swung a leg over to his other side, effectively sitting you on his lap in a straddle. Some tight, warm feeling in your stomach seemed to lock you in place, and as you leaned forward to press your lips up against his ear, you were pretty sure you could feel sparks flying off your body. Or maybe that was the alcohol. Either way, it certainly felt amazing. “That’s part of the secret.”

You could feel Klaus shiver as you drew back, providing just the slightest bit of smug satisfaction.

Your new position offered you an intimately close look at his face, and you could see every little detail that you had so dearly missed. There were his eyes, beautifully green and framed in lashes he most definitely didn’t deserve; you’d spent many days telling him how ungrateful he was to have such a blessing. Lower down were the dimples you’d always been jealous of, dimples which had gotten this man out of many arguments and chastisements. There were his lips, long and graceful, and facial hair that would have looked ridiculous on anyone who wasn’t Klaus.

And then, down south, just at the protruding ridge of his collarbone... a single, prominent beauty mark. A mark that had teased and taunted you endlessly for days and weeks and months, one that you now had the bravery and the lack of sobriety to ponder.

Klaus gave something of a nervous chuckle, powerless to do anything but look up at you with wide eyes. His hands were notably withdrawn from your body; you must’ve caught the poor thing off guard. Good. Let him be the one at a loss for once. “What, uh? What are you doing?”

“Making today worth it,” you told him, catching his eyes and refusing to let them go. You wanted him to see the intention, the desire, the _need_. Leaning down and forward so slowly you weren’t sure you were actually moving, you used a hand to steady yourself against Klaus as you bent to his chest. Before you could chicken out or find any reason to stop yourself, you surged forward and caught that enticing little beauty mark in your mouth, kissing at it and nipping slightly.

The sound that came out of Klaus’ throat could only be described as obscene and desperate. Ah; there was the answer to _that_ particular question.

“Wait, what are you—“ His words were cut off when you repeated your motion, another provocative gasp drawn from his lips. You couldn’t help the satisfaction you felt, nor could you help smirking against his collar bone as you peeked to see the effect. His face was very suddenly red, eyes blinking a mile a minute, and he seemed to be making an extra effort to contain himself.

Huh. Who would’ve thought all it took to fluster Klaus Hargreeves was a bit of sexual tension?

“You’re being awfully quiet all of a sudden,” you murmured, slowly working your way up his throat. The second kiss in, he reflexively slid his hands onto your hips, gripping hard and shifting beneath you. Poor guy must’ve been so confused. “Was this all I had to do to get you to shut up all those years?”

“Oh, my god,” Klaus breathed. He sounded somewhere between amusement, arousal, and deep set panic. Nice to know the effect you had. “This can’t happen, you... you’re gonna _kill_ me when you wake up tomorrow morning.”

Another kiss, this time at his jawline; his fingers were digging into your hips, now, and you found that you actually quite liked the pressure. “Why would I do that?” you asked, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair. “I want you too bad for you to die.”

Klaus choked, turning to the left just as you were about to capture his lips in a kiss. “Okay, hang on a second, you can’t just— we! We _can’t_ do this right now!”

You narrowed your eyes, tilting your head in confusion. Weird; he _seemed_ pretty in to this, what with all the moaning.

’Couldn’t do it right now...?’

Oh!

“Klaus, baby, if you need a second to get it up, then—“

He let out a strangled cry, face contorting in embarrassment as his cheeks went even brighter. “I’m _way_ too fucking sober for this,” he muttered, pulling his hands from your waist and latching them onto your wrists in an effort to de tangle your fingers from his hair. “Okay, for the _record_ , I have _zero_ performance issues!”

“Okay,” you told him doing your best to look understanding. “Well it’s fine if you do, you know, I’ve read that drug use can have effects on—“

“Nope!” Klaus exclaimed, “No, we’re _not_ doing this! My shit’s working _fine_ , okay, your drunk ass _should_ be so lucky.” He took another moment to breathe, shaking his head in disbelief. “Listen to me, okay? You’re drunk, and I’m not. You don’t do that very often, which I know because you hate what it does to me, so your tolerance is probably under the floor. That’s _fine_. But I’m not gonna sit here and let you jump me just to wake up tomorrow morning and start a fight!”

“ _Klaus_ ,” you murmured, blinking down at him. Funny that his only protest here was that you were drunk; funny that he wasn’t actually telling you he didn’t want you, too. If you’d harbored these feelings since you were a teen, since you had first met Klaus, really… did that mean that he had the same ones too? “ _ You’re _ the one who said you wanted to know my secret.”

“Which you _still_ haven’t told me, by the way!”

You tilted your head, shifting forward so that your lips were just shy of his. All it would take to close the gap was another burst of impulse. Maybe if he gave you enough time, you’d find it. “You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you, Hargreeves?” He was still holding your hands captive; that was fine. You had other methods of getting your point across; namely, rolling your hips until you managed to win another gasp. “I want you… to want… me.”

And then you kissed him, deep and sweet and passionate, like everything you had ever dreamed of doing since you’d met this man so many years ago.

Kissing Klaus felt like letting go of everything wrong. His lips were soft, warm, and he tasted oddly of candy. None of those were bad things; just the opposite, in fact, and such a wonderfully pleasant surprise, considering you’d been expecting to taste alcohol or weed. You moved together, kissing and touching and exploring. His hands had loosened on your wrists, allowing them to return to their place in his curls, and his own palms had begun wandering their way along your torso, trailing hellfire wherever they touched. He gasped when you tugged at his hair, and you took advantage of the opening, darting your tongue in to see how he would react. When another beautiful moan was won, you repeated the action, slower this time, and deepened the kiss further.

Kissing Klaus was right. Kissing Klaus made sense.

Kissing Klaus was… kissing Klaus was pure fucking _bliss_.

“Okay, wait,” he gasped, wrenching his mouth away from your own. “I see what you’re doing here, and it’s not—  _ no _ ,” he insisted, twisting to the side and flipping you onto your back when you attempted to catch his mouth again. His legs were tangled with your own, and his hands now had your wrists pinned above your head. You were effectively trapped. “That was a dirty trick, you know.”

“I know lots of those,” you slurred, winking up at him. The effect was lost when you simply ended up blinking instead. “If you wanted to be on top, you could’ve just said.”

Klaus opened his mouth, then closed it again. Funny; he wasn’t one to run out of words, and especially not in your company. His cheeks were still red, his lips newly swollen, and there was a light in his eyes that you weren’t familiar with. “Listen to me,” he whispered. “I know that today was bad. I know someone you cared about walked out on you, and I know that they… I know they didn’t tell you why, or where they were going… and I know that probably scared you.”

Addled with alcohol as your mind was, you could still pick up on the true meaning of Klaus’ words. This wasn’t your fiancé he was talking about now; it was himself, those many times he’d left you alone in chase of another high.

“Plus, you’re drunk,” he added. He began backtracking at the nonplussed look you saddled him with. “Hey, hey, I’m not judging now. You know me, I’m definitely not one to talk. It’s just… I’m sure that with all the bad stuff that happened today, and your person leaving you, and me showing up unannounced, well. All of that’s gotta be taking a toll, right? But you can talk to me about how you’re feeling, okay, you don’t have to drown it all out with… me. Or sex. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Staring up at Klaus like you were, with his wide eyes gazing right back into yours, you realized two things. The first was that, maybe he was right. You were drunk, and terribly afraid of confronting your feelings about seeing him again for the first time in two years. Maybe your sudden need to lose yourself in physicality with him was an effort to escape the horrible feelings your birthday had brought, the abandonment from your fiancé ditching you and the sad resignation that your own special day had turned you into nothing more than an emotional punching bag. Maybe you were simply trying to avoid dealing with the messy things in your mind.

The second thing was that, in spite of all of that, your desire for Klaus wasn’t falsified, and it never had been. You’d had a crush on him since you were young — since you’d met him, really. He made life easier, made things bearable, made your birthday special. Klaus was kind, genuine, an absolute sweetheart. He was everything you wanted, though you’d never had the courage to admit that. Technically you still didn’t, given that jumping his bones wasn’t exactly a romantic confession.

You sighed, letting your body go limp to show that you wouldn’t resist or cause anymore problems. When Klaus lifted himself off of you, you sat up, cradling your chin in your own hands. “I wasn’t pretending, Klaus,” you murmured, offering him a sad smile. “I know I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair to you. But I… you know, every time I met with the wedding planner to pick something out, I didn’t care what my fiancé thought? I was always wondering what you would think. You know, what colors our theme should be, what flavor of cake we should have, what sort of venue would be best. At first I thought it was just because I missed by best friend, but then I realized tonight after seeing you that maybe… maybe it’s a good thing I got dumped, you know? Because I… I have feelings for you, Klaus.”

Klaus tilted his head, considering your words. For a moment he looked sad, like there was something he regretted. It was gone in the next second, though, replaced by teasing laughter, and you were much too intoxicated to chase after it. “You would’ve never told me that if you weren’t absolutely wasted, you know.”

“I’m sorry this is what it took to get me to realize,” you chuckled, scooting closed in order to lean your head on his chest. He stiffened, probably trying to anticipate whether you were going to jump him again, but relaxed once he realized you were seeking a more innocent form of comfort. “All of that being said… will you stay with me? Please?”

It was a loaded request, given that you weren’t just asking about this one night, either, nor was your question a simple one. What you wanted was for Klaus to stay with you, tonight, tomorrow night, the night after that, and so on and so forth. You didn’t want to have to get drunk to hide how you felt, you wanted to be able to come home and hurl your feelings at him every single day. You wanted him to stay here with you, to hold you like he was now, to make you laugh and cry and occasionally enrage you. You wanted to keep him, to have him be your best friend in the way that he used to be.

You wanted him to want you, too.

It was silent for a few moments, the both of you just breathing in unison. He would inhale as you exhaled, and the cycle would go again and again and again.

And then, finally,

“Please,” Klaus murmured, pressing a sweet, chaste kiss to your temple. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! I’m not sure where exactly this came from but I felt the need to write it and I couldn’t stop until it was finished. If you have any questions or comments feel free to send them my way!


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